Painted Black
by Misgiving Writer
Summary: From the start, Sokka knows there is something wrong with the letter. With how everything is worded and how it is sent. From the start, Sokka can see that something is off with this new land - none of his friends seem to notice. ATLA, Harry Potter xover.
1. Proloug,  Believe

A/N: I've been wanting to write for both of these fandoms lately and I figured a cross-over was the perfect way to do it. I plan on having each chapter be slightly longer than the last, until it all evens out to roughly 3,000 words per chapter. This story itself is a series of co-related drabbles. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

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><p>"This is stupid." Sokka grumbles, letting himself slouch further against the saddle. Across from him, Zuko rolls his eyes. Katara ignores him in favor of talking to Aang, listing everything they think will happen and everything they hope to see. Toph is crouched on the other end of Appa's saddle, still running her fingers over the brail printed letter that she recieved only two days before.<p>

None of them think it's 'stupid'. They don't think that it's dangerous. That it may be a trick, a lost cause, a waste of precious time and resources. No. Instead, the rest of Sokka's rag-tag group see it as a way to end the war without killing the Firelord in the end. Almost as a saving grace. This school that contacted them, this Hogwarts place, is supposed to be exactly what Aang needs. Or so Katara says. Personally, Sokka thinks that the very idea of going to a magic school for training is ludicrous.

Not for the reason that the others think, though. Not for reason that Katara got mad at him over. Because, despite what everyone thinks, Sokka knows that magic is real. He claims that he doesn't believe in it, argues with Katara and Aang over it being real or not, and lies when he tells Zuko that he believes the letters are a fraud.

It's just that he wishes none of it was real.

The water-tribe boy wishes that water didn't just _appear_ for Katara. Looks over the fact that, sometimes, things just _move closer_ to Toph. Ignores the things that _dissapear_ when Zuko is angry. Laughs away the sight of Aang _finging things that shouldn't really be there_.

These things that happen - Sokka knows what they are. It's magic. Simple as that. Or maybe not that simple, Sokka thinks to himself, because the reason he thinks that is as far from simple as it could be.

"This is really stupid." Sokka says again, louder this time. He's hoping one of the others will ask him why. Listen when he explains his thoughts. Agree with him in the end and get Aang to turn around and keep heading towards the fire nation.

Toph casts a nasty look in his direction, porcelain fingertips never leaving the raised paper. Zuko rolls his eyes and goes back to watching the clouds drift by. Katara and Aang act as though he didn't speak - and now his baby sister is excitedly talking about the different classes their letter spoke about and how amazing it will be to take the Potions Class.

No one says a word to him.

So Sokka lets himself slouch down further. The leather of the saddle feels hot even through his shirt. The fact that he recieved no letter, no invitation to Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, weighs him down like no wound ever has.


	2. Perfect Reality

A/N: Hmmm...I warn all of you, updates probably aren't going to be super quick after chapter three gets posted. I've got a lot of ideas for this story but it's not completely sorted out yet. Hope you all enjoy!

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><p>Diagon Alley is an impressive place. The slightly crooked cobble stone street is lined with shops of all kind - all selling things that Sokka has never before imagined, like flying broomsticks and inks that dissapear. People are everywhere, clad in vibrant robes, carrying bags with moving images on them. It's amazing and perfect and everything that one would picture when they imagine a street that soley sells wears for wizards.<p>

Immidiatly upon entering the magical marketplace, Aang grabs hold of Katara's arm and points at one of the shops. "Look, Katara! That's the place to get our animals! We should go there first!"

Katara nods. "Alright. Toph, you want to come with us? We can pick something out together."

The earth-bender hesitates for a moment before nodding. "I guess. But I'm not spending the whole time looking at those stupid birds you were gushing over."

"They're owls, Toph." Katara says with a slight snort.

Sokka snorts right back. "Yeah, and everyone knows that you think they're the coolest thing to have as a pet since Inga got that baby walrus-tiger."

The pets were one of Katara's biggest thing. She's never had one before. Not enough resources at the south pole, not safe enough while they were travelling. The closest she has ever gotten is Momo and Appa but they aren't really pets. Even if they were, then they would belong to Aang and no one else. And, after reading the letter several times over, she decided that she was going to get an owl.

"They're practical." Katara counters, crossing her arms over her chest. "And they're better than some of the other choices we get."

Sokka just rolls his eyes at his sister. He's about to start up a playful arguement when he realizes that Zuko is standing on the edge of their little group, hands in pocket and a sour look on his face. Recognizes a glint of loneliness in the the prince's eyes and understands that he was not invited to the menagerie.

Of course, Sokka knows why his sister didn't extend her offer to the entire group. He does not agree with her but he does understand. So he steps up and he takes control and he isn't planning on getting a pet anyway, so he motions towards Zuko and nods at the large brick building several blocks down.

"You all go on and check out the pets. Me and Zuko are going to exchange our money and meet you there afterwards." Sokka tells him, and he ignores the shaded look that his sister sends his way.

"You don't mind?" Aang asks. Then the Avatar grins and forges on without waiting for an answer. "Great! That means we can look there longer!"

And so Aang and Katara and Toph head off towards their chosen store. Sokka gives Zuko, who has distrust in his eyes and confusion in his stance, a grin.

"C'mon. We'd better go get this money out. I think Aang might have a fit if he doesn't get to buy something '_magic_' soon." Sokka laughs and starts walking towards what he thinks is the bank, knowing Zuko will reluctantly follow behind him.

And as he walks, he listens and looks and sees what the rest of his group doesn't.

Behind the bustling atmosphere of the street, Sokka sense worry. He can tell by the way everyone looks at each other with distrust in their eyes, bodies tense and mouths set in thin lines. He sees warnings plastered on shop windows and doors to many buildings boarded up and closed down. Protection charms are on sale. Children are kept close to their parents. Everyone walks in groups of three and four.

Where Aang and Katara and Toph and even Zuko see perfection, Sokka sees reality. He sees a battle worn street and he wonders what sort of danger he has let his family walk into.


	3. Magic Flows Through

A/N: 'Nother chapter for all you lovely readers! I'm still a little hesitant about this story so, if you all enjoy it, just let me know!

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><p>The last stop on their list is the wand store. A dingy little shack stuck in the corner of Diagon Alley, out of the way, out of place. The faded sign above the store says <em>Ollivanders Wands<em>. The crooked sign in the window is too chipped to actually read. It does not look like the sort of store with a credable history but everyone they have asked says it is the _best_ place to buy a wand.

Sokka hopes they have enough money to get wands for all of them - because he has traded every last coin they own in for the Galleons and Knuts that the wizarding world use as a currency. The very thought of the empty hide change purse he now carries sends an ache through him, because having no money is never a good thing. Especially not when you aren't familiar with the customs of the land you're in.

"Let's get this over with." Zuko says, pushing open the door. It lets out a creak as it swings inwards, revealing a dust covered room filled with boxes and devoid of any personal. Empty of all other customers.

Sokka doesn't like it. Aang thinks it looks neat. Katara just wants to get it over with, her feet are hurting and Toph keeps complaining about being hungry. So they all go in and spread out, looking at the different wooden boxes, waiting for someone to come and help them with their purchase.

Leaving the small group behind, Sokka makes his way over to far left of the store. He runs his fingertips over the lids of the boxes as he walks, leaving lines in the dust. There is something in the air here, underneath the smell of antiques and inbetween the different contrasts of the wooden cases. He can't place the feeling but he knows it's familiar. Or maybe, Sokka thinks, its just that this store makes him feel isolated and that is the familiar feeling.

As he gets closer to the back of the store, the boxes begin to change. The layers of dust covering them all grows thicker. The wood darker. And, for some reason, they all seem so much more enticing. Sokka cannot help but open one up. He wants to know what these wizards and witches use as a weapon, what it looks like, what it feels like.

"A stick?" Sokka whispers to himself, carefully setting the black lid down next to its box. He picks the thin piece of wood that was sitting in the box, nestled inbetween layers of black silk and white velvet, up with one hand and narrows his eyes at it. "Doesn't look so special."

Right after he speaks, there's a shriek and a crash from the front of the store. Sokka isn't thinking when he slips the wand into the pouch resting on his hip. Leaving the empty box sit open, he rushes up to where the others are standing.

"What's going on? Everyone okay?" Sokka demands, breathless.

Aang gives a quick nod, eyes not leaving the pile of fallen boxes at his feet. Wands and lids are scattered everywhere. "Yeah. We're all good. I think..."

"I am so, so sorry, sir. We didn't mean to knock them down. You just really startled us." Katara tacks on. She folds her hands in front of her and gives a short, quick bow.

Toph snorts. "He didn't startle me."

Katara glares at Toph and, for the first time, Sokka notices the crooked old man standing on the other side of the fallen wand-boxes. The man is standing with his back hunched, wearing an old robe that has clearly seen better days. Large yellow-green eyes are made even larger by the wire rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and there is a mop of wirey, white hair on his head. He isn't smiling but he isn't frowning either. He is just staring at them all, as though he's trying to _see through them_.

Zuko clears his throat and blinks away the dust that drifted into his eyes when Aang and Katara knocked down the stack of boxes. "Are you Ollivander?"

"Yes, yes I am. You must be Zuko." Ollivander gives a short nod in the prince's direction. "You didn't knock over my display, so we'll start with you."

Ollivander pulls a short, brown wand out of a fold in his robe and points it at Zuko. Gives it a flick. Then, as a measuring tape zooms across the room, turns and starts to shuffle away. The tape wraps around one of Zuko's arms, then flits down his side and around his calf, up his back and around his neck. To Sokka, who is tense and unhappy and not at all impressed by this display of _magic_, it looks as though Zuko is too afraid to move.

"What's going on?" Toph demands, reaching out and smacking Sokka hard on the arm.

Sokka rubs the now stinging patch of skin and tries to keep the disbelief out of his voice when he answers her. "Not much. Just a typical ol' flying measuring tape taking measurements by its self. You know, the usual."

Before Toph can make a scathing retort, because she _still_ doesn't find the water tribe boy to be even slightly amusing, Ollivander returns from whatever corner of the store he'd been rooting through. Three boxes are piled in his arms and, on his command, the yellow tape falls limply to the ground.

"I am almost positive that this is the right wand for you." Ollivander pulls an almost scarlet-brown wand from one of the boxes, sitting the other two down at his feet, and shoves it into Zuko's hand. "Seven and a half inches. Stiff. Oak wood with the heartstring of a Chinese Firebolt dragon. Just give it a wave, m'boy."

"A...wave?" Zuko repeats, staring down at the wand almost in disbelief. Then he shakes his head and points the wand in a direction void of people. Flicks it almost cautiously. And drops it, withdrawing his hand to his chest, when a red haze shoots from the tip of the wand and the air in the shop suddenly feels a few degrees warmer.

Katara and Toph snicker as Zuko, blushing, bends over and picks up the wand.

"Perfect. A match on the first try." Ollivander nods, then turns his gaze onto Aang. "Why don't we try you next, Avatar?"

"W-what?" Aang stutters. "A-avatar?"

But Ollivander just smiles a toothless grin and commands the tape to start taking the monk's measurements. He will not answer them when they ask how he knows who they are, merely continues to pitter through his work and assign them all wands.

Toph - a wand of ivy with a unicorn hair as the core.

Katara - a willow wand with a blessed lilly petal in the center.

Aang - ash wood with a pheonix feather at the middle.

And, as Sokka pays for the four wands and ushers everyone out of the store, he hears Ollivander speak one last time.

"Nine inches. Yew wood imbued with ivory. Pheonix feather core. Strong and sturdy." The wandmaker mutters, and he looks right at Sokka as he does.


End file.
